


The Pot and the Kettle

by MagalaBee



Series: Ingrid Rarepair Week [6]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:46:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27124714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagalaBee/pseuds/MagalaBee
Summary: There were few people more stubborn than King Khalid of Almyra. But he had a match in his fiancee.INGRID RAREPAIR WEEK DAY 6: Nobility/Protection
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea & Claude von Riegan, Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Claude von Riegan
Series: Ingrid Rarepair Week [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1973008
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	The Pot and the Kettle

**Author's Note:**

> One of my favorite things about these two is how stubborn they both are. I loved how they pushed one another's boundaries and challenged each other in the game. To me, it didn't come off as empty bickering, it came off as two people challenging the other to become a better version of themselves. And I think that makes for a lovely ship dynamic~

Khalid winced as he walked through the hallways of Almyra’s royal palace. His arm was in a sling, and the bruises on his ribs still stung something awful. He’d be in fairly bad shape for a few weeks, but it was thanks to the fast intervention of healers that he was still walking at all. Being hit with a crossbow bolt was almost always fatal.

He took it as a statement of his personal fortitude that he was still here. Too stubborn to be gotten rid of so easily.

Ironic though it may be, Khalid didn’t feel scared this time. He had faced near death on myriad occasions throughout his childhood and the war. In all of those moments, there had been split seconds of terror in which he wondered if his life would end. Think about what all he could have done.

But this time, he had been willing to die for a purpose. He didn’t feel like any of it was being wasted.

He opened his bedroom door and found Ingrid already there. She had been cleaned up as well. Bandages peeked out from beneath her loose fitting shirt, marking where she’d taken a shoulder injury mid-flight, but all around she was in a much better condition. However her face was heavy and pale with emotion.

Khalid smiled and came to stand beside her, where she leaned against the tall pillar frame of his bed. “Hey ther--”

“Why did you do that?” she snapped, interrupting him fast. She had practically set a new record. 

“I’m going to need you to elaborate,” Khalid sighed. He tried to slip his good arm around Ingrid’s wasit, but she pulled away. Her arms crossed over her chest and her face scrunched into an expression of anger.

“You know exactly what I mean! You shouldn’t have even been in the battlefield, nonetheless get between me and a bolt! I was trying to protect you!” she shouted.

“And I was trying to do the same! I’m the king of this country now, and I need to be out there showing my people that I will defend them from brigands the same as anyone else,” he argued. Khalid’s brows began to purse together too, responding to Ingrid’s ire with a bit of his own. They always used to fight like this when they were younger, but he thought they had both outgrown it in their adulthood. Apparently not.

“Exactly!” Ingrid threw her arms up in frustration. “You’re the KING now! You can’t just go tossing yourself about willy nilly! That bolt was meant for me, and now look at you! You’re a bruised mess, limping about the palace and--”

Khalid scowled. “And what? Am I somehow less capable of leading my people now?”

“And you could have been shot!” 

Ingrid’s voice broke, her shout cracking and falling flat, hitched onto the emotion that she tried to hide behind a manufactured temper. Khalid remained quiet as he watched her swallow back on air and look away. She was clearly trying not to break down right now, even though they both knew he wouldn’t begrudge her tears. 

“Ingrid…”

“I can’t lose you too,” she whispered. “Khalid, I… I can’t. I’ve already lost one fiancee, I can’t go through it again.”

His heart softened for her. Ingrid was right, she had felt that kind of tragic heart break before, and at an age so young. She feared for his safety in a different way than he feared for hers. He didn’t want to see her hurt. She, on the other hand, knew exactly how it would feel if he died in the line of duty.

“Hey,” Khalid murmured, holding his good arm open to her. “Come here.”

Ingrid stepped closer and stood against him. She tried not to lean too heavily on his injured arm, but she gingerly put her head on his shoulder. He hugged her close and brought his free hand up to pet along the plaits in her hair.

“I’m sorry,” he told her gently. Ingrid had lost more than just Glenn in her life, and sometimes Khalid forgot about how much it must hurt her to carry it around. She’d lost her former fiancee as a child and she’d lost her friend and once king as a woman. It was only natural that she’d be angry with him for nearly making her lose both in one go.

“It’s… It’s alright,” she muttered. “I know you were just trying to protect me.”

“And I know you’re only angry because that’s how you Fodlan nobles express yourself,” he teased. “But I’m still sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, I just didn’t want to risk losing you.”

Ingrid sighed and she rested a hand against his chest. He felt her run her thumb along the bottom of her ring band. She fiddled with her engagement ring a lot, he thought it was endearing.

“Please just… next time, let me take the hit,” she begged. “It’s like I have to fight much anyway, there are fewer and fewer bandits running raids these days. Neither of us need to be in danger all that much. But… the whole of Almyra will be lost if you’re taken from them.”

“Mmmm… I can’t promise you that, Ingrid,” he said. “Almyra might be lost without me, but I’d be lost without you.”

“You’re so stubborn,” Ingrid muttered. He could tell she was pouting as she nuzzled her forehead against the crook of his neck.

“Ah, the pot has so many words for the kettle, doesn’t she?”

“...Does this mean we both need to take a step back?” she offered. “Maybe I should just… become the Captain of the Palace Guard and you stop going into the field? That way we’re both out of danger.”

“Mmm…” Khalid hummed before he turned his head and kissed Ingrid’s hair. “I think we can compromise with that.”


End file.
